Bill's Dumpster Bride
by Teenage Mexican Master Chief
Summary: One man's trash is another man's nightmare...
1. Chapter 1

Late one night Bill was trawling the back alley ways of Arlen. Occasionally digging around various trashcans for a little snack. Tonight, he hadn't much luck. The local competition beat him to anything worthwhile so far. He continued his search in vain for the next hour.

The night air was particularly damp, amplifying his rank stench, nearly knocking out a hissing possum in the adjacent trashcan. It darted off into the dark, fleeing from the offensive odor. Little victories. He smiled triumphantly when his eyes landed on a half-eaten McChicken the poor rodent abandoned. The sandwich had seen better days and most definitely wasn't safe for consumption. Did that stop Bill from wolfing the thing down wrapper and all? Hell no.

He burped loudly in satisfaction and patted his large gut. What kind of animal eats the goddamn wrapper? Bill Dauterive, that's who. The degenerate continued his assault toward town, where the vermin were fatter, and the prizes were soggier.

The stained white wife beater clung to his sweaty body. Rodents skittered away from his thundering steps. This was it. He ripped a loud wet fart as he struggled to climb into a dumpster behind some rundown furniture store. He managed to roll over the edge, moldy cushioning broke his fall. Insatiable hunger over took him as he swallowed down a few handfuls of the stuff. As he was stuffing his fat gob with the moldy mattress foam his hand brushed against something hard and smooth. He tossed a few large cushions aside, revealing a female mannequin. His eyes raked over the intact mannequin hungrily, a predatory grin splayed on his face. Its featureless face stared back blankly. He finally found his queen, something to replace Peggy's old ratty body cast.

Bill carefully dug the rest of its body out of its cushiony grave. Wondering who would throw out a perfectly good lady. Once his new toy was safely out of the dumpster he climbed out, landing ungracefully on his ass. A soft cry left his lips as he rubbed his sore tailbone. While he recovered, it quickly dawned on him that quite the task was ahead of him since he left his car at home.

Bill hefted up the mannequin, which was much heavier than it looked, and began his journey home. Its plastic limbs scraped the sidewalk noisily. Thankfully it was around 2am on a Tuesday, so there wouldn't be any judgmental onlookers.

A good while later he finally made it home, huffing and wheezing up his short drive way. He clumsily dragged the mannequin into his house. He kicked off his shoes, freeing his fungus covered feet, digging them into the disgusting carpet. With a loud grunt he hauled his new bride into his room and crawled into bed next to it. Another loud fart erupted from him, that McChicken was coming back to haunt him. If the mannequin had eyes they would probably be weeping.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)

Disclaimer: Don't own King of the Hill, just borrowing the characters for a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill waddled back to his house after sucking down a few beers in the alley with his friends. While they had someone to go home to; he too finally had something waiting on him. Carelessly kicking off his shoes as he slammed the door behind him. Flies immediately buzzed around him. Though something seemed out of place.

He spotted the mannequin laying just outside his bedroom. Odd, that wasn't where he left it last. How did it get there? He scratched the top of his flakey balding head. With a shrug he picked it up and dragged it back to his room. Chalking it up to being tired that morning. He shrugged off his fatigues, sporting his usual boxers and wife beater.

Stealing a glance at the lifeless mannequin before him an idea struck. He clawed through his messy closet and pulled out Lenore's old clothes. Eyeing the pile of clothing strewn about. He settled on a peach colored sundress with a tan floppy brim sun hat. When he looked back at the mannequin he startled. Its head seemed to have turned when he wasn't looking. Shaking off his little scare he dressed the mannequin.

Pleased with the results he dragged it to the kitchen and sat it at the table. Repositioning its limbs was a bit of a struggle but with enough force he got them to pose how he wanted. Now to dispose of that old body cast...He quickly decided against getting rid of it and shamelessly stashed it away for another time.

Tonight he would make a proper dinner. No more dining on trash. Well at least for a couple of days anyway, too many delectable morsels out there to pass up. A wet fart erupted from him, burning his ass. Good thing he didn't turn on the stove yet, that could have proven fatal. The ghosts of his food weren't the only things that were haunting him now.

Bill threw a half eaten burrito that he stole out of trash at work in the microwave. Unbelievable the things people throw out. Perfectly delectable morsels just wasted. It certainly cut down on food costs, but greatly increased his gastrointestinal disturbances to his dismay. When it was done he pulled it out and hot potatoed it to the table. On closer inspection it had some hair stuck to it. Oh well, extra roughage he mused. Most of the food he fought the local vermin for was worse off anyway. Okay he was dining on trash again but whatever. Its Bill, king of the waste.

"So what's a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?" He said dreamily with his mouth full, spraying pieces of food everywhere. For some reason a disturbance was felt and it wasn't in his pants. What was left of his hair stood on end. An uneventful moment passed before he laughed at himself for being paranoid like Dale.

The hat fell off the mannequin suddenly. "That's okay, I'll pick it up and put back on your pretty head" Bill said with a loud rumbling belch. He sighed in satisfaction as he put the hat back on the mannequin. It was nice not having to worry about manners like front of a real girl...

"I'm going to go watch the game. Would you like to watch it with me...uh...Karen?" He asked before just dragging the thing to the couch. He cozied up to the mannequin, putting the moves on it like the classic yawn stretch. The TV flickered on. The picture fuzzy at best. Bill mashed a few greasy buttons trying to get it to do something. A few minutes past before it played normally. Maybe it was the signal he wondered irritably. The flies landed on his smelly feet and promptly died, a normal occurance. At least Karen couldn't complain about it...

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter 3

It was another exhilarating night on the town. Bill ripped a fat stinky one in a trashcan full of rats and then slammed the lid shut, trapping the innocent creatures inside. They fervently scratched around for an exit to no avail. He could barely contain his laughter as they were forced to breathe the fiery wrath of his jalepeno popper lunch. Bill found a little bit of mercy in himself and decided to free them. Nah, just kidding, he reached inside and grabbed one of them, still sluggish from being gassed. He bit its head off, its blood splattered all over his face and dirty wife beater that hasn't been washed in a few months. The crunchiness of its skull disturbed yet excited him. His stomach gurgled as he slurped out the entrails. All that was left was a blob of flesh which he also ate.

It was getting especially late and he had to work tomorrow. With a heavy heart and butt, he shuffled his way home.

He slipped in his house and locked the door. The rat blood flaked off his face. What a mess. Did he care? Not one iota. He jumped back when he saw the mannequin standing in the middle of the living room, its outfit lay on the floor in tatters. Bill stared at in confusion. There didn't seem to be any sign of a break in. What could have happened? He looked through the house and seen that everything was in its place other than Karen of course.

Bill stopped in his tracks, his fat jiggling from the sudden movement. The mannequin was facing him. He sure as hell didn't move it. Maybe it was the rat he ate earlier that was affecting him. Yeah, it probably ate some hallucinogens or something, he tried to reason. Bill gunned it to his room and dove under the covers. There was no time for a shower as it was late as hell.

A loud bang woke him up. He wiped his sweaty face before falling right back to sleep. A loud, gassy fart blows the blanket off his massive hairy body. The bed creaked as he tossed and turned, nightmares of rats filled his head.

A scream tore out of his throat as he sat up in bed, straight as a board and pale as a ghost. He felt queasy. Rats? He ate many things but live rats weren't one of those things. Damn nightmare. He shook his head. Another screamed left his lips when the mannequin was standing right next to him, bent down at eye level. What a weird ass dream. That damn mannequin... He hadn't been sleeping much that week, which might explain his forgetfulness with leaving Karen around in weird places.

He cleared his throat a few times. Vomit suddenly poured out of his mouth. Its foul odor reeked of death. He turned on the lamp and whimpered at the sight before him. His lap was covered in partially digested rats and blood. Tears leaked down his wide eyes. It had to be a dream...He didn't eat no rats...

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed :) Stayed tuned, more spooky shit to come.


	4. Chapter 4

A few days had passed since the rat incident. Even though they were uneventful he was still too paranoid to get any meaningful rest. He wondered if it was retribution for fighting the local vermin over food, that and the unstoppable diarrhea. He used up what was left of his personal time off blowing up the toilet. If he wasn't better by tomorrow he would just have to shit himself at work...

Bill devoured two pounds of cheese in an effort to stem the tide. It was to no avail. He grimaced when he got a look of what was coming out of his ass. More rat entrails. What a rough week. It was time to lay off the garbage for a while. At least he had the mannequin for company.

Once he was sure his ass wouldn't explode any time soon he emerged from the bathroom. The mannequin was standing right there. He jumped in surprise. This had to be a prank. Still it unnerved him. There were no signs of a break in. He was certain he would have noticed if one of his friends had come in.

He moved the mannequin out of the way. "Haha you got me guys." He said nervously, still hoping it was some sort of joke. The bed creaked loudly when he fell back onto it. He broke out in a cold sweat. A loud scraping sound could be heard outside of the room. A pathetic whimper filled the ensuing silence, along with another wet fart.

Suddenly the only plate he owned was smashed onto the kitchen floor. Bill pulled the blanket over his head and hoped to wait out the intruder. Loud uneven footsteps crunched over the glass. Murmurs of another language clung in the charged air. The power went out when the footsteps stopped short of his room.

He farted in fear, his anus almost prolapsing. His heart pounded in anticipation. A loud clattering of wood and plastic echoed through the room. He cried out in panic as he flailed wildly under the blanket.

A few minutes passed before he felt brave enough to peek out. Bill slowly peeled the blanket off his head and peered around. Nothing out of place except for the mannequin laying on its side in the doorway. He slid back under the blanket and tried to go to sleep.

Before long nature called again. Once again emerging from the safety of his blanket he ended up face to face with the mannequin. He screamed in terror and promptly shat himself. Damn not again. He sighed in relief when he realized it was just Karen, the mannequin. He leaned over and kissed it, still sitting in his shit. The warmth of it excited him a little as he caressed the mannequin's chest.

A loud screech pierced his ears and he passed out seconds later...


	5. Chapter 5

Bill returned home from his day job. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as stared nervously at the front door trying to gather up the strength to go inside. His leaky bowels forced him to expedite that. As he raced to the bathroom, he got a glimpse of Karen in the kitchen. With no time question it further he went to wrench the bathroom door open to find it was locked. A fat wet one ripped from his ass. No. He didn't want to shit himself again. Bill ran to the front door to find it too was locked. As were the windows and backdoor.

The mannequin, dubbed as Karen, hated being in possession of such a slobbish dolt. It just hated everything really. Bill held his ass and waddled to the kitchen. Left with no choice, he plopped his bare ass into the sink and promptly blew it up. The stench wafted up to his nose, making him gag. His eyes watered. Certainly, this wasn't from eating a little bit of trash?

He looked over and shrieked when he noticed the mannequin had moved. Bill was sure he would have noticed someone moving Karen.

The windows rattled suddenly, causing him to fall back into his shit, which splattered onto his back. The air was heavy. An unseen presence filled all the available space. His back hair stood up on end. Bill's eyes landed on Karen, who looked misshapen and distorted. A little fart escaped his ass and increased the tension. The TV's static hurt his ears as the volume seemed impossibly high.

Bill hopped down and took the roll of paper towels with him. He had to get out of this house. When he made it to the front door, everything seemed to snap back to normal. Well almost normal, the air was still heavy and smelled of shit. He took a few deep breaths and cleaned himself up. Putting both of his butt cheeks together, he tried to think of what the hell he could have done. Bill concluded it was his penance for being a menace to the local vermin. How could he make peace with them? An offering perhaps?

He waddled into the kitchen and sagged at the sight before him. A sink full of raw sewage with no wife to clean it up for him. Well the other half of the sink was empty at least.

Relief washed over him when he saw that Karen stopped wigging out. He stomped to the bathroom and went inside warily. Once he was sure it was safe, he hopped into the moldy shower and got to it. He added more water to his body wash to make it stretch even further, which he purchased 2 years ago. It was pretty much just water at this point, but he was going to get his money's worth dammit.

Now what would rats want as an offering? Cheese? Bread? Moldy peaches? He sighed as he stared helplessly at his playboy centerfold taped to the shower wall.

He finished his shower and quickly got dressed. This ends tonight. Bill ran into the rank smelling kitchen and grabbed a few cans from the pantry along with a loaf of green bread.

He stopped and noted the time of day. This would have to wait a little while longer since most of the vermin didn't come out until dark. With that, he dropped the supplies and grabbed the six pack of out his fridge to go drink with the boys, nearly tripping over a can on the way out.

"Hey guys!" He shouted and waved. The shrunk away from him. His rank stench making them ill, well except Dale since smokers can't smell anything.

"Oh god, Bill, you smell like you've been in a sewer." Hank choked out, pinching his nose. "Oh, ew, I smell it now!" Dale complained and moved several feet away. The guys quickly dispersed before Bill could explain his situation. He sighed and finished his beer. "Yup." He said miserably.


	6. Chapter 6

Bill finished his beer with a loud obnoxious belch. He crushed his can with renewed resolve on his way to his house. The sun sank below the horizon. The street lamps cast a dim orange glow over the sidewalks. Bill scooped up his offerings with shaking hands as he struggled to hold his breath. His house reeked with a mixture of raw sewage and death. Karen lurked menacingly in the shadows.

Bill gulped when he caught a glimpse of a bowl filled with rat corpses sitting on the table. He ran out of the house, his fat rolls bouncing with each step. He huffed and puffed like an asthmatic down the street, unsure of where the fuck he was going. A familiar rumble made him sweat even more. He would need to shit soon. Bill hoped it wouldn't be anymore rat entrails, those ripped his asshole up too much the last time.

A shiney new trashcan caught his attention. He fell to his knees gasping for breath. A large wet one ripped from his gaping ass. Tears streaked down his sweaty face. The wetness squished around his thighs and groin as he got to his feet. Legally Bill had to keep his pants on so he had to deal. Bill threw the expired cans of peaches and rotten bread into the trash can and ran back to his house.

He collapsed in his driveway. Sweating, stinking, and defeated. Bill laid in his own filth a few feet away from his front door. Another wave of diarrhea filled his pants. He clutched his aching swelling gut as he writhed on the ground. His offering was an insult and he would pay dearly for it.

The door to his house opened on its own with a loud creak. He forgot to ask Hank to spray DW-40 on the hinges. Karen snatched him into the house and the door slammed shut.

Bill cowered and whimpered pathetically beneath the towering mannequin. Karen dragged his bulky form to the kitchen sink, still full of his own feces, and forcefully dunked his head into it. Bill let out a scream before he plunged into the shit sink, which earned him a mouthful of diarrhea. He thrashed and slung shit everywhere as he was drowning in his own excrement. No aid would come for him.

He thought he might have a chance, that he wouldn't die. He was wrong. Bill lost the battle and inhaled a lungful of shit. He threw it back up only to inhale more. The taste was the worst imaginable. His lungs burned.

A few minutes later he went into cardiac arrest and the force holding his head under the sewage vanished. His body slid from the sink and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. Feces flowed from his gaping mouth. Bill's pathetic life flashed before his shit filled eyes. He couldn't believe he was dying, terror flooded his being.

Sometime later Bill awoke in a dark, rank, hot place. It was unbearably hot. Sweat poured from every pore. Bill kept bumbling around in the dark, his bare feet coming down on an uneven wet squishy surface. He wiped a thick oily substance from his brow. It was diarrhea. He frowned. "Hello?" He bellowed. "Anyone there? Hank?" His pleas fell on deaf ears.

Suddenly the whole area lit up. Bill shielded his eyes as they adjusted. He was trapped in what appeared to be an organic cavern at first glance. He blinked a few times to clear his focus and to his horror he realized he was in a stomach like structure. He fell to his knees and vomited more rat entrails mixed with shit. His ass erupted with the bones of his victims. Whatever flesh touched the stomach walls burned. He tried to stem the flow of vomit and looked around for an escape. There were no exits. There however was another creature trapped with him.

The creature resembled the mannequin he had found in that dumpster. It was distorted and changed, more rat like. Its hollow eye sockets bore holes through him. Bill cowered before it, babbling a prayer in between vomit sessions. Rats spawned endlessly from the mannequin. They devoured Bill's physical form with their sharp gnawing teeth and claws. They ate their way through EVERY orifice.

Bill vomited up a few of the rats as he was dying again. His world went black.

He awoke again in the same place. The stomach dissolved his last body. More rats swarmed him and began the devouring process again. This was his fate. To be devoured by his enemy over and over for the rest of stinking eternity. One man's trash is another man's nightmare.


End file.
